Nothing Lasts Forever. Sidney Sheldon

I’m sure he only meant …”

      “I think we can all assume that Dr. Barker meant what he said.”

      All eyes were fixed on Paige Taylor.

      The prosecutor’s case against Paige seemed overwhelming. Yet Alan Penn had the reputation of being a master magician in the courtroom. Now it was his turn to present the defendant’s case. Could he pull another rabbit out of his hat?

      Paige Taylor was on the witness stand, being questioned by Alan Penn. This was the moment everyone had been waiting for.

      “John Cronin was a patient of yours, Dr. Taylor?”

      “Yes, he was.”

      “And what were your feelings toward him?”

      “I liked him. He knew how ill he was, but he was very courageous. He had surgery for a cardiac tumor.”

      “You performed the heart surgery?”

      “Yes.”

      “And what did you find during the operation?”

      “When we opened up his chest, we found that he had melanoma that had metastasized.”

      “In other words, cancer that had spread throughout his body.”

      “Yes. It had metastasized throughout the lymph glands.”

      “Meaning that there was no hope for him? No heroic measures that could bring him back to health?”

      “None.”

      “John Cronin was put on life-support systems?”

      “That’s correct.”

      “Dr. Taylor, did you deliberately administer a fatal dose of insulin to end John Cronin’s life?”

      “I did.”

      There was a sudden buzz in the courtroom.

       She’s really a cool one, Gus Venable thought. She makes it sound as though she gave him a cup of tea.

      “Would you tell the jury why you ended John Cronin’s life?”

      “Because he asked me to. He begged me to. He sent for me in the middle of the night, in terrible pain. The medications we were giving him were no longer working.” Her voice was steady. “He said he didn’t want to suffer anymore. His death was only a few days away. He pleaded with me to end it for him. I did.”

      “Doctor, did you have any reluctance to let him die? Any feelings of guilt?”

      Dr. Paige Taylor shook her head. “No. If you could have seen … There was simply no point to letting him go on suffering.”

      “How did you administer the insulin?”

      “I injected it into his IV.”

      “And did that cause him any additional pain?”

      “No. He simply drifted off to sleep.”

      Gus Venable was on his feet. “Objection! I think the defendant means he drifted off to his death! I—”

      Judge Young slammed down her gavel. “Mr. Venable, you’re out of order. You’ll have your chance to cross-examine the witness. Sit down.”

      The prosecutor looked over at the jury, shook his head, and took his seat.

      “Dr. Taylor, when you administered the insulin to John Cronin, were you aware that he had put you in his will for one million dollars?”

      “No. I was stunned when I learned about it.”

       Her nose should be growing, Gus Venable thought.

      “You never discussed money or gifts at any time, or asked John Cronin for anything?”

      A faint flush came to her cheeks. “Never!”

      “But you were on friendly terms with him?”

      “Yes. When a patient is that ill, the doctor-patient relationship changes. We discussed his business problems and his family problems.”

      “But you had no reason to expect anything from him?”

      “No.”

      “He left that money to you because he had grown to respect you and trust you. Thank you, Dr. Taylor.” Penn turned to Gus Venable. “Your witness.”

      As Penn returned to the defense table, Paige Taylor glanced toward the back of the courtroom. Jason was seated there, trying to look encouraging. Next to him was Honey. A stranger was sitting next to Honey in the seat that Kat should have occupied. If she were still alive. But Kat is dead, Paige thought. I killed her, too.

      Gus Venable rose and slowly shuffled over to the witness box. He glanced at the rows of press. Every seat was filled, and the reporters were all busily scribbling. I’m going to give you something to write about, Venable thought.

      He stood in front of the defendant for a long moment, studying her. Then he said casually, “Dr. Taylor … was John Cronin the first patient you murdered at Embarcadero County Hospital?”

      Alan Penn was on his feet, furious. “Your honor, I—!”

      Judge Young had already slammed her gavel down. “Objection sustained!” She turned to the two attorneys. “There will be a fifteen-minute recess. I want to see counsel in my chambers.”

      When the two attorneys were in her chambers, Judge Young turned to Gus Venable. “You did go to law school, didn’t you, Gus?”

      “I’m sorry, your honor. I—”

      “Did you see a tent out there?”

      “I beg your pardon?”

      Her voice was a whiplash. “My courtroom is not a circus, and I don’t intend to let you turn it into one. How dare you ask an inflammatory question like that!”

      “I apologize, your honor. I’ll rephrase the question and—”

      “You’ll do more than that!” Judge Young snapped. “You’ll rephrase your attitude. I’m warning you, you pull one more stunt like that and I’ll declare a mistrial.”

      “Yes, your honor.”

      When they returned to the courtroom, Judge Young said to the jury, “The jury will completely disregard the prosecutor’s last question.” She turned to the prosecutor. “You may go on.”

      Gus Venable walked back to the witness box. “Dr. Taylor, you must have been very surprised when you were informed that the man you murdered left you one million dollars.”

      Alan Penn was on his feet. “Objection!”

      “Sustained.” Judge Young turned to Venable. “You’re trying my patience.”

      “I apologize, your honor.” He turned back to the witness. ”You must have been on very friendly terms with your patient. I mean, it isn’t every day that an almost complete stranger leaves us a million dollars, is it?”

      Paige Taylor flushed slightly. “Our friendship was in the context of a doctor-patient relationship.”

      “Wasn’t it a little more than that? A man doesn’t cut his beloved wife and family out of his will and leave a million dollars to a stranger without some kind of persuasion. Those talks you claimed to have had with him about his business problems …”

      Judge Young leaned forward and said warningly, “Mr. Venable …” The prosecutor raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. He turned back to the defendant. “So you and John Cronin had a friendly chat. He told you personal things about himself, and he liked you and respected you. Would you say that’s a fair summation, doctor?”

      “Yes.”

      “And for doing that he